Page 9 of Camera Stays On

I raised my arms, locking my fingers around his neck as his arms wrapped around me. We danced in small circles, his hat bumping my forehead as he bowed his head to look at me.

This was such a romantic song to dance to, but neither of us questioned it.

“Andi,” Ash murmured as we twirled. His breath smelled of whiskey, mixing with his cologne to create an intoxicating scent. “I—” He stopped short, then leaned down and kissed me.

I closed my eyes and leaned in, savoring the taste of his lips. In the recesses of my mind, I knew this was bad, but I didn’t care. The alcohol in my system had long since made me abandon what was right and wrong. My hands slipped down, resting on his chest, feeling the hard muscles under his shirt. We kissed until he pulled away, and I opened my eyes, feeling his absence almost painfully. The room was spinning, the air warm, and I was struggling to steady my breath.

“You want to get out of here?” he asked.

“I do.”

We hitched a ride with an older couple on the way out. The drive to my hotel was filled with a lustful, drunken tension that had me clenching my thighs and closing my eyes, thinking about how his lips had felt in the bar.

Warm, soft, and dangerous.

We made it to the hotel and thanked the couple as best as we could in our chorus of drunken giggles before falling out of their vehicle and rushing into the brick building.

Not entirely sure how we got there, but in a flash we were at my room, fumbling with the key card. The door fell open, and Asher’s mouth was back on mine, his hands running frantically over my body. We didn’t bother with the lights as we scrambled to undress. It was almost as if, given time to think, one of us would stop this madness.

Boots, skirt, fishnets—tossed onto the floor.

Jersey, jeans, cowboy hat—tossed onto the table.

Soon, Asher and I were bounding into the bed, nervous giggles filling the room, mixed with excited gasps and moans of pleasure.

“Andi, I don’t think you know just how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured as he ran his tongue up my breast, placing a kiss on my nipple. I arched my back, pushing against his naked body.

“Yeah?” I said, my heavy eyes falling closed. The room swirled, and I fell into the abyss that was Asher Delambre. I opened my eyes and looked up at him through my blurry, drunken vision. I stared until I could focus, and my heart skipped a beat. This was really happening.

“You were happy when I ran out of that church,” I accused. He moved down my body, placing kisses as he went. His lips sent delicious little tingles up my body. He chuckled as he settled between my legs, spreading them open.

“You have no fucking clue.”

I gasped as his tongue found my wetness, exploring me with an expertise that surprised me. Not because it was Asher, but because my experiences since I’d left this town had been...disappointing—few and far between. I gripped his hair and pushed him closer. The hair above his lip tickled in the best way as he twirled his tongue and slid a finger inside me, curling it.

“Oh!” I gasped as the room spun. Was I too drunk for this? Maybe. In this moment, did I care about how this would affect things later? Hell no. I was leaving tomorrow morning. I reached for him, needing more. By the time our liquid courage wore off, I’d already be on a train back to Chicago. For now, I was going to enjoy this stolen moment.

A low chuckle vibrated from his throat, and the rumbling against my pussy sent me over the edge. I cried out as I came all over his face. He continued licking until I shuddered from the overstimulation. He sat up and wiped his mustache. I propped myself up on my elbows and took him in.

Asher was gorgeous naked.

Tattoos riddled his body. I couldn’t see the details in the dark, but I could see the lines. They were tight and distinct and led all the way down to his cock. My mouth watered as I stared, my legs splaying farther apart as I reached for him and fell back against the pillow.

“I love that mustache. It’s so slutty.” I giggled.

“Slutty?” He laughed.

“Mm-hmm. Very.” I kissed him, and our tongues danced together. I tasted myself on him, and my body ached with need. We shifted, adjusting our bodies so that his cock lined up with my entrance, but he hesitated before going any further.

“Do we want to use a condom?” he asked in between kisses.

“Do we?” I teased. The alcohol was talking for me. “I’m on birth control.”

“Then, no, we don’t,” he growled, thrusting into me. The alcohol must have been talking for him as well.

I cried out as he stretched me, the delicious pain swallowing me whole. I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. He took a beat and began to thrust.

“Ash,” I gasped, my next orgasm knocking at the door.